


I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best (but the rain is always gonna come if you're standin' with me)

by lia_writes



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, also this talks a lot about ptsd so please be warned, and also sweet, i guess?, this is angsty, waverly loves nicole completely and wholly and just wants the best for her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:33:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25912165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lia_writes/pseuds/lia_writes
Summary: Nicole's PTSD finally reaches a breaking point. She can't stop having nightmares. She can't ground herself in reality. She's falling apart, but Waverly Earp is there to put her back together.Inspired by the wedding scene in the season 4 preview. Title's from Peace by Taylor Swift, which feels like it was written for Wayhaught.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 8
Kudos: 143





	I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best (but the rain is always gonna come if you're standin' with me)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about the wedding scene where we see Doc crying blood ever since it was shown in the preview, and it read a lot like an anxiety dream to me. Thus, this fic was born. I write frankly about PTSD and panic attacks here, so do be gentle with yourself while reading.

_Nicole took a deep breath at the front door of the homestead, letting the crisp, winter air fill her lungs. She was wearing an elegant white dress, with a matching white lace jacket around her shoulders to beat the chill. She looked out at their guests, smiling at the people who were there to celebrate her marriage to Waverly. At the altar, Doc and Jeremy stood on either side of the Justice of the Peace. Jeremy bounced excitedly and smiled at Doc, who gave a faux-exasperated nod in return, eliciting a giggle from Nicole. She heard the violinist begin to play the wedding march and took a deep breath, turning around and outstretching her hand for Nedley to take. He stood up from the couch, a twinkle in his eye that looked a lot like pride._

_“Well, I guess it’s time to get you down that aisle,” he said, smiling as he reached Nicole. He tucked her arm under his, using his free hand to straighten his tuxedo jacket. “You ready to do this, kid?”_

_Nicole beamed at him, nodding her head. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life, Nedley. I can’t believe I get to marry Waverly Earp."_

_"Well then, I think it’s time we get a move on. If we linger and I make Wynonna miss her cue with your soon-to-be wife, she’ll kick my ass.”_

_Nicole glanced back to Wynonna’s bedroom, where she knew Waverly was waiting with her sister, and laughed. “We can’t have that, can we? Let’s go get me married.”_

_With that, they were off, stepping down the wooden homestead stairs and onto the path Doc had cleared earlier for the brides. Something changed, though, as Nicole’s foot landed on the snowy ground. Suddenly, the music stopped, all the guests turning their attention away from her. They cast their eyes towards the frozen earth, sitting in terrifying silence. Nedley dropped her arm and stood still as a board, his eyes darkening. As Nicole focused in on their guests, she noticed that the colorful, beautiful outfits they had been wearing before had all turned dark, almost like they were at a funeral instead of a wedding. She looked down at her own gown, one she had spent days picking out, only to find it, too, had gone from pure, exquisite white to dark, suffocating black._

_She looked around in panic, but the people surrounding her were still avoiding eye contact. “Jeremy? Doc?” She shouted, trying to get their attention. Neither of them answered, and her gaze quickly volleyed between them. While they seemed to be ignoring her, she did notice one thing - the gentle tear she had seen Doc let out as she began her descent down the aisle had turned to blood._

_Nicole felt her entire body go cold at the sight. She moved to turn around, needing to run back into the house and save Waverly, superstitions about seeing your bride before she got to the altar be damned. Nicole went to move, to turn around and protect the woman she loved, but she couldn’t. Just as she began to realize she was stuck, she heard Waverly’s blood-curdling scream, her fiancée calling out her name in desperation._

Nicole’s eyes popped open, her entire body feeling like it was filled with lead. She glanced hurriedly at her surroundings, quickly realizing she was in the bed she shared with Waverly. She reached out wildly for the other woman, but found the other side of the bed empty, too panicked to realize that it was still warm. Instead, Nicole’s brain went into overdrive, her fight or flight instincts telling her that danger was here. She still couldn’t move, though, knowing somewhere in the back of her mind she’d likely pass out if she tried to stand. She attempted a deep breath, but it came out broken and ragged, the air barely making its way into her lungs. Knowing she was stuck for the immediate future, even with her brain telling her that Waverly was in peril, she tried to use some of the tools for dealing with anxiety that she had looked up in secret. She had spent the last few weeks attempting to convince herself that nothing was wrong, even with the evidence stacked against her.

 _Okay_ , Nicole thought to herself, _let’s try to get ourselves back to reality._ She began listing things in her head.

Two things she could feel. Her hands, gripped tightly to her chest, palms sweating against her tank top. Her pulse, pounding wildly in her throat.

Three things she could see. The ceiling, lit up with fairy lights Waverly had roped her into stringing along their bedroom. The old casement window, sun streaming in through the crack in the curtains. The bedroom door, left ajar, even though they always slept with it closed.

Four things she could hear. Her breath, still erratic, but beginning to slow. The sound of water running in the bathroom next door to their room, and then the sound of it being shut off. The bathroom door opening, the wood creaking. Waverly’s voice, warm, still tinged with sleep.

“Hey, sweetie pie, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just had to pee,” she heard Waverly say, still not completely processing her words. She felt more than saw her fiancée return to her side of the bed, instantly becoming warmer as Waverly slipped back under the covers. Finally, Waverly turned towards Nicole, and had the redhead been able to make eye contact, she would’ve seen the woman’s own panic screw up her features. “Nicole, what’s wrong? You’re as white as a sheet.” She reached out and touched Nicole’s forehead, sweat sticking to her fingers. The touch startled Nicole, and she looked over at the younger woman for the first time, feeling a bit more grounded. Still, when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t speak, instead shaking her head quickly. Fear returned to her eyes, and Waverly sprung into action, wrapping the redhead up in her arms and kissing the top of her head.

“Another nightmare?” Waverly whispered, feeling Nicole nod against her. Waverly gripped onto her tighter, a quiet understanding falling over her. She had noticed that Nicole’s nightmares were back, felt her fighting against them in her sleep. They seemed to be coming more and more frequently, sometimes two or three in one night, but never had Nicole woken up this terrified. Waverly sighed, unsure of what to do. She had tried to gently approach Nicole about the panic, tried to get her to talk about her year and a half alone, but she never seemed to be able to get the redhead to open up. She knew better than to press someone while they were in the midst of coming to grips with their own trauma, having learned enough from being an Earp. Between dealing with Wynonna’s issues and her own, she was well aware that she couldn’t push someone to open up about something they weren’t yet ready to admit to themselves. Still, she was desperate to help the woman she loved, to reassure her that whatever demons she was fighting, she wasn’t alone in trying to defeat them.

Still lost in thought, she hardly heard Nicole whisper her name against her collarbone, a few tears from the older woman wetting her camisole. Waverly looked down, planting a kiss to the redhead’s temple and giving her another squeeze.

“What is it, baby?” She asked, her own voice quiet, afraid of startling her trembling love.

“This one was really bad,” Nicole said back, still not raising her head. “The worst one I’ve had in awhile. Maybe ever.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Waverly was cautious to offer talking about Nicole’s nightmare with her, remembering all the times she had offered to be a listening ear to Wynonna, only to have her sister brashly insist that there was nothing to discuss. Still, she had to start somewhere with Nicole. She waited for an answer, a moment passing between them, then another.

“I don’t think I can talk about the specifics,” Nicole said finally, lifting her head and looking at the brunette. Nicole knew that hashing out the details of her nightmare out loud so soon would trigger more panic, and she couldn’t risk it, not when her breathing was finally resembling normal. Waverly nodded at her, understanding clear in her eyes.

“We don’t have to talk about what exactly went on in your dream, baby, but I do think we have to talk about why you’re having them. They’re becoming more and more regular, Nicole, and I-” Waverly paused, taking a deep breath and giving Nicole another squeeze, “I just hate to see you suffering like this. You went through so much, more than any of us could ever understand. Eventually, honey, you have to talk about it. Otherwise, it will eat you alive.” She made eye contact with Nicole as she finished talking, and the older woman held her gaze, nodding.

“You’re right. I know you’re right, but,” Nicole said, taking a shuddering breath, “I just don’t know, Waverly. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know how to even begin to get into it, with you or with anyone else. I can’t even sit with my own thoughts about that year and a half for more than a minute without spiraling.”

Waverly sighed, recognizing all too well how her fiancée was feeling. “Nicole, I know how hard it is to unpack something you didn’t ask for. No one gets that better than the people in this house. If you’re not ready to share with me, what about a therapist? I know Purgatory is in shambles right now, but I’m sure we could find someone. Wynonna is back with BBD, we both know they have connections…” Waverly trailed off, trying to read the face of the woman in her arms.

“It’s not that I’m afraid to talk to someone, exactly, it’s just,” Nicole said, taking another steadying breath. “I just- I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what, baby?” Waverly prompted softly, raising an eyebrow. This was farther than she had gotten with Nicole since they returned to each other, and she knew she had to make Nicole feel safe if she wanted to maintain their candor. 

“Don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again, Waverly,” the older woman said, her eyes filling with tears once more. “I don’t know if I will ever be the Nicole Haught you fell in love with again. I feel so different now. Everything about who I was before you were in the garden feels like it's just outside my field of vision. Like no matter how hard I try, I can’t get the woman you asked to marry you back.”

“Nicole,” Waverly started, reaching out to wipe the tears from the redhead’s cheeks, “when I asked you to marry me, it wasn’t with any conditions about who you may become. I asked you to marry me because I know your soul, because I know who you are at your core. All of us are going to change throughout our lives, baby, whether we want to or not. I know I’m not the same woman you met at Shorty’s. Nothing about who you are, then, now, or in the future, could change how much I love you. Nothing you have been through or might go through will ever change what I feel for you.” Waverly pulled Nicole back to her chest, her hand sliding into the older woman’s hair, keeping her close. 

“Are you sure about that, Waverly?” Nicole asked, her hands reaching out to grip Waverly’s hips. “Because there are a lot of dark corners in here. I don’t know where they will all lead.”

“I’m sure,” Waverly promised. She took a deep breath, shifting so she could look into Nicole’s eyes again. “I do think you need to talk to a therapist too, though, not just me. I’ll always be here to listen, and to hold you close, but only a professional can really help you work through these feelings. What do you think?”

“I think you’re right, just like always,” Nicole replied, a relief in her eyes that Waverly hadn’t seen in weeks. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Waverly asked, tilting her head.

“For being you. For being my life boat out at sea.”

“Oh, honey,” the younger woman whispered, kissing the corner of Nicole’s mouth, “you’ve dedicated so much of your life to saving other people. To saving me. It’s about time you let someone take care of you. I’ve got you, Nicole Haught. I mean it.” 

Nicole smiled, a sense of calm taking over. She wasn’t okay, and she didn’t know when she would be, but she knew the day was coming. That was more hope than she had felt in a long time. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you. I haven't written for pleasure in years, so this is rustier than I'd like it to be. I wanted to get my take on Wayhaught dealing with Nicole's PTSD out before the show gave us theirs, though, so time is of the essence. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments, if you'd be so kind as to leave them. I hope you are staying well during this challenging moment in history. Sending love and gratitude your way. x


End file.
